


Wrestling With

by Viridian5



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Drama, M/M, Pre-Series, Psychic Abilities, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1276083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Farfarello takes advantage of an unexpected opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrestling With

**Author's Note:**

> Vague, very mild spoilers for the final episodes of _Kapitel_. All things _Weiß Kreuz_ belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiß, Polygram k.k., and Animate Film. No infringement intended. 
> 
> By the way, Schuldig bought that shirt for Farfarello because it had tentacles on it and Schwarz was going to Japan.

“I’m bored.”

“I’m Guilty.” Schuldig’s gaze didn’t leave the television screen.

Farfarello sat down on the couch next to him, _very_ close, arm to arm, leg to leg, harder to ignore, more contained than Schuldig’s sprawl. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” 

Schuldig teased him every time he came over for entertainment, saying that Farfarello preferred the same targets and loved to lick the same knives over and over again so he shouldn’t need something different _now_. After Farfarello had made the mistake of admitting that he thought the knives smelled even nicer and more comforting after a good licking, Schuldig had responded by asking if he’d been a thumbsucker and sending Farfarello a mental image of him deepthroating one of his own knives. 

Although Schuldig loved to tease, he was the best company available in Schwarz, and they often hunted and played together. Crawford didn’t want to hear from Farfarello unless it involved a mission or the daily operation of Schwarz and felt that Farfarello having a rare moment of boredom didn’t count; Schuldig could take care of him with that. Nagi regarded Farfarello with a sometimes volatile mix of disdain, which he felt for almost everyone, and fear. While his telekinesis could easily crush Farfarello from a distance, Nagi knew he could still be killed by a simple knife in a moment of surprise and that Farfarello was a fount of bloody, deadly surprises, thus the fear. Sometimes, when most afraid, Nagi would do a pre-emptive strike on him.

Crawford had made Schuldig Farfarello’s official boredom-killer, which Schuldig took about as well as he took being ordered to do anything, even things he wouldn’t mind doing otherwise. Generally Schuldig, who loved to talk, at length, enjoyed their conversations, especially when Farfarello did most of the listening. To Crawford, Schuldig had said, ja, that he understood boredom well... and trying to alleviate it sometimes got him into the worst kinds of troubles, so maybe Crawford didn’t actually want him alleviating Farfarello’s boredom too since Schwarz might not survive.

Crawford had told him to grow up already and consider this a part of his Berserker-wrangling duties, with forfeiture of duty leading to major punishment. It surprised Farfarello that Crawford had handled that so badly, since he’d worked with and known Schuldig longer than Farfarello had known either of them. With the right words and sweetener, Schuldig would have done this happily, and their leader should have known that. Had it been Crawford’s intent to make Schuldig feel put-upon?

In the present, Schuldig asked, “Is your boredom really more important than my homework?” 

“Yes.”

“Of course it is.”

“What the hell are you watching?” Farfarello saw someone in a helmet and apron running on a conveyor belt trying to grab something hanging from a string overhead while getting pelted with white feathers.

“An insane game show. If it’s an accurate indicator of Japanese culture, the people here might be sadomasochistic enough to suit me.”

Later in Schwarz’s stay in a new place Schuldig would become more insouciant and arrogant, but at the beginning he’d spend time huddled in front of a television working to pick up body language cues and local culture. He found watching television or movies somewhat challenging since he couldn’t read the minds of the people there, making it seem even less real to him. It took him longer to understand the language they spoke or the intentions that shaped a story’s plot. 

Ages ago, when Farfarello had asked him why he needed to do and see this since he was a telepath, Schuldig had answered, “I can’t read a mind from top to bottom in half a minute. People have mental shorthand. If I said ‘Protestant’ to you, that word would have very different associations and history in your mind than it would in, say, Nagi’s. I can pull a thread but I’d have to keep pulling and pulling and _pulling_ to get everything about it and behind it. I need to make decisions faster than that, so I need background knowledge that isn’t dependent on telepathy. Besides,” Schuldig had grinned like a fox, “it makes Crawford wet to see me put so much time and effort into being the best operative possible.”

When Farfarello had replied that watching television must be such a hardship, Schuldig had put a dramatic hand against his forehead in grand “oh la, sir, I am about to faint” style and talked about how much he had to _suffer_. 

Schuldig annotated Schwarz’s world, their missions, and the people involved for them, often after being asked for it but also unasked and unwanted. Although sometimes he provided _more_ than you wanted, such as the time when Schuldig had answered Farfarello’s question about why their current client seemed more uncomfortable than usual in his presence with “He sometimes likes men, and usually blonds, though he never acts on it. Having seen your pale hair, scars, bondage pants, and bloodied self, he’s feeling lust worse than ever before, so of course he hates _you_ for that, though he’d still stick his dick in you given the slightest opportunity.” At Farfarello’s somewhat stricken expression, Schuldig had smiled and said, “Well, you _asked_.” 

After that Farfarello had noticed that whenever Crawford had wanted that man distracted or wanted to subtly taunt him he’d put Farfarello in his field of vision and whisper, “Just stand there and look like yourself. Maybe smile at him once in a while.” 

If Farfarello hadn’t already hated humanity along with God, hearing their inner workings explained by Schuldig’s telepathic gleanings would have done it. 

“Your knives aren’t holding your interest today?” Schuldig asked, his gaze still glued to the television.

“Today they all taste stale. It might be different tomorrow. I’ve also been very strongly cautioned against killing anyone connected to the Church today.”

“Since when do you listen to that?”

“Even I take the occasional day of rest.” The voices were quiet today, leaving his mind feeling like clear, placid water. Sometimes that happened. Thus the boredom.

“Just like--”

“Don’t start with me.”

“It’s not even Sun--”

“ _Don’t start with me_.”

“Yes, master. Sorry, master,” Schuldig replied as insincerely as possible. 

Farfarello took a lock of Schuldig’s hair between his fingers and pulled it a little, just enough to sting, something he’d figured out through trial and error over the time they’d known each other. “Don’t toy with me.”

“Ow! Vicious little bastard. And you know I toy with everyone.”

The copper hairs caught on the calluses and scars on Farfarello’s fingers. He found himself running them between his thumb and index finger, struck by their shine and bright color, getting a sensation nearly of... pleasure. This was new. Surprising and interesting too. Maybe he could feel something on quiet days? He’d need to experiment....

Schuldig stared at him, eyebrow raised. “What are you doing?”

“You’re the mindreader. You should know.”

“ _You_ don’t even know what you’re thinking right now, so hell if I do.”

“Hell anyway.” He contemplated Schuldig’s long autumn hair, currently pale winter skin, long fingers, long limbs, wide mouth, bright eyes, and ever-present glow of telepathy perpetually at work, a glow only Farfarello seemed to see. He contemplated sin, including some he hadn’t tried yet. “You like to try new things.”

“If I see a benefit to myself or it entertains me.” After a moment, Schuldig said, “Not even Crawford would make me whore myself out to you just to alleviate your boredom.”

“Apparently you have some idea of what I’m thinking now, but it wouldn’t be whoring.” 

“Probably not _actual_ whoring, since I doubt anyone would pay me for doing you. You know, we should have you handling our contract negotiations from what a smooth talker you are.”

“Who says you’d be doing me?”

“I’m not letting a guy who doesn’t know what he’s doing and barely understands pain to stick anything anywhere in me.”

Farfarello suddenly had thoughts of killing chosen targets by making them choke on his dick. New horizons opened up.

“That is not sexy at all,” Schuldig said. “I’m even less in the mood now. By the way, you’d have to worry about them biting you.”

“I wouldn’t feel it.”

“You’d notice if they bit it off.” 

“...true.” Though they wouldn’t have a chance to bite if he moved quickly enough. 

It didn’t get him any closer to fucking Schuldig.

“Why would you even want to when you probably can’t even perceive the sensations properly?” Schuldig asked.

“You’re a telepath. You can feed me how you feel when I’m doing things to you. You’ve done it with other lovers.” 

Schuldig liked to talk about a sex life Farfarello didn’t really understand but didn’t mind hearing about because even just listening to all that had to be a sin. Since it sometimes made Farfarello want to cry, it had to make God cry too.

“But when I do that we each get to feel what the other’s feeling, making it the cherry on top. I’m not sure I’d _want_ to read the thoughts and sensations you’d have.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“I don’t have to set myself on fire to know I don’t want to get burned.”

“I doubt it’ll hurt that much.”

“I wish I were a teleporter instead of a telepath right now.” Schuldig turned the television off with his remote, stood up, and started to leave the room. 

Farfarello would not be ignored. He leapt up, grabbed Schuldig, and fought to make sure Schuldig couldn’t hold on to a moment of focus long enough to try to brainblast him into unconsciousness. It made Farfarello both happy and unhappy that Schuldig fought back; it’d be nicer if Schuldig just gave in but wrestling with him could be fun. 

Neither of them could afford to be too physically vicious with a teammate, and for Farfarello to get what he wanted he couldn’t hurt Schuldig too badly. Most submission holds didn’t work on Farfarello because he didn’t feel pain and thus wouldn’t surrender so, knowing that, Schuldig grappled in ways intended to knock Farfarello out, though without damaging him too much. Both of them were too fast and too good at fighting to be taken down. It felt and probably looked like a swift and awkward dance.

Fighting without an edged weapon or the intention to maim or kill led to very different tactics and movements. Farfarello grabbed hold of Schuldig when he could, not easy when the telepath was so fast and slippery. He enjoyed touching Schuldig like this. It stirred him up, made him hot and harder.

“You should be doing that in private. This is a public area. Have some consideration!” Nagi said as he walked in and quickly walked out. It stopped the grappling.

“It’s fate,” Farfarello murmured to Schuldig while still gripping him around the waist and by his shirt.

“I’m not going to start caring what Nagi thinks about my sex life,” Schuldig replied, letting go of a belt loop on Farfarello’s worn out blue jeans. 

Farfarello didn’t reciprocate. “I notice your excitement.”

“It happened because you’ve been rubbing yourself all over me. Pervert.” Schuldig couldn’t help smirking at the turnaround implicit in that. 

“Is that all it takes?” 

“Are you sure you don’t just wanna wrestle?” 

The question struck a chord in Farfarello because Schuldig sounded a bit like one of his inner voices, something the telepath sometimes did on purpose but sometimes couldn’t help. It made him consider it carefully before answering, “I fight every day, all the time. I don’t want to fight you right now.”

Schuldig looked at him and seemingly _into_ him for about a minute before saying, “We shouldn’t be getting into this out here. Follow me. You’ll have to let go first. I won’t run away.”

“It’ll only be worse for you later if you try.” He let go.

Schuldig shrugged his shirt back into place and walked into his bedroom, Farfarello behind him. Schuldig’s room had colorful clothing hanging or draped in several places. Despite its sanguine name, Rosenkreuz had restricted color in its buildings, trappings, uniforms, and people, even keeping Schuldig’s bright hair cut very short during most of his time there. It’d be easy to blame that for many personal choices Schuldig made in his life while away from there, but the telepath was more complicated than that. Just like how people might think he owned so much German language music out of national pride when really he used it to help him hold on to his essential identity no matter how many countries and languages he marinated in. 

Schuldig closed the door and sat down on the sloppy bed. “You don’t really want this because it could really mess you up, Far. If I accidently broke you in a way that made you useless to Crawford, he’d kill us both.” 

“Your concern touches me.”

“I don’t want to be responsible for making you catatonic either.” 

“If things start to go badly, we stop.”

“You _know_ us, Far.” 

Wanting to actually do things instead of getting talked out of them, Farfarello kissed him in a rush, not really knowing what he was doing, and concentrated on _wanting_ him, hoping to influence him. At first Schuldig just stood there and let it happen but gradually relaxed and started to kiss back. Under Schuldig’s expert tutelage Farfarello learned and improved quickly and decided that he liked kissing. It felt... good, and there was something primal in breathing each other’s breath. Having Schuldig’s tongue occasionally dart into his mouth seemed strange at first, and the first time he almost bit down in reaction. Although he still didn’t understand it, he ultimately decided it had to do with sharing each other and creating a sense of intimacy, so it could continue. 

Spending so much time in a straitjacket made him better appreciate the use of his hands when he had them free, so he let them roam all over Schuldig, his hair, his face, his arms, his flat belly under his button-down white shirt, up and down along the fly of his emerald green jeans, the last mostly to torment him, make him moan, and get him to start radiating his sensations out, which he soon did. 

_Fuck_. Did everyone... _feel_ like that during sex? No wonder Schuldig slutted around; no wonder God forbade it. His body and especially his skin felt so _alive_. Such a rush. He could get lost in this....

He climbed on top of Schuldig on the bed and rubbed their clothed erections against each other, moaning and moving along with him. Schuldig pulled Farfarello’s gray Property of Miskatonic University Swim Team T-shirt out of his jeans and stroked the bare skin of his back, sometimes applying his short nails along it to add some spice. His usually hard blue eyes had a hot, somewhat softer look in them. Farfarello had to stop grinding against him to undo their flies. Why the hell did Schuldig have underwear on? Farfarello didn’t believe in wearing such useless things and wished he had a knife to just cut it off. Impatient and annoyed, he quickly and somewhat roughly pulled them and the jeans down to mid-thigh for better access and prevented Schuldig from complaining through more kissing and bringing their hard cocks together to stroke them both, which made everything so much better. Listening to Schuldig’s sex talks had really paid off. It became awkward keeping himself up and stroking at the same time, but Schuldig maneuvered them so they were lying on their sides facing each other, an excellent idea showing the benefits of experience. 

“This is good, but I don’t think we should come like this. Not for the first time.” Schuldig nearly purred it.

“The _first_ time?” With what he currently felt, he really liked the idea of more times.

“Are you feeling things off this yourself or just getting my sensations?”

“Don’t know, don’t currently care.” 

“I wanna try something.” Schuldig moved down to put his mouth near Farfarello’s rising cock, close enough to breathe on it. “Interested?”

“Yes.” 

“Just remember to watch this and not thrust too hard.” Schuldig started to lick his cock with the same thorough, loving attention Farfarello licked his knives with. While Schuldig had often made jokes about this in the past, now that Farfarello saw it he _really_ got it and his knives would never be the same for him, though he never lavished the kind of attention to the points that Schuldig currently did to his cockhead. He felt such an urge to _stab_ \--

Schuldig put his right fist around the base of Farfarello’s cock and his left hand down hard on Farfarello’s hip, caging and controlling him a bit. Farfarello would say something petulant about the lack of trust if he hadn’t just been about to do what Schuldig had moved to prevent. Stupid urge of his, since Farfarello so enjoyed this obscene and exciting show he received, especially when Schuldig took his cock almost completely into his mouth, all the way down to the ring of his fist, and started working it up and down. 

Although Farfarello could feel some of it and it felt good, the much stronger pleasure sensation came from Schuldig occasionally grinding his own cock into the mattress. “Schuldig, apparently I won’t know what a blowjob really feels like unless you share how _you_ feel getting one.”

Schuldig pulled himself up so he wouldn’t have his mouth full anymore, leaving Farfarello’s erect cock shiny and pretty with his spit. “I’m not letting your teeth anywhere near my dick, so no. I’ve _seen_ what you like to do with them.”

Unfortunate. “Then let me fuck you.” 

“Given that you were about to shove your cock down my throat, I’m not enthused about letting it anywhere near my ass, especially since you’re not terribly patient.”

“Then prepare yourself first.” How could Schuldig deny him when he was being so very reasonable?

“Why should I go along with this? I don’t see myself getting anything _I_ really want. Besides, wouldn’t it make God angrier if I fucked _you_? I’m already a slut, so He must have given up on me.”

“Fucking me would be a purely symbolic gesture.” As attackers at Rosenkreuz had learned. 

“You spend most of your time making symbolic gestures! Besides, you’d be feeling what I feel as I fucked you.”

Somewhat tempting, but Farfarello knew what he wanted. “Not interested at the moment. Schuldig, I’ll faithfully follow your commands.” 

“Starting _when_?”

“I know you want to come, so let me get you there. Part of what’s making me so obstinate about this is that I can feel _your_ wanting. If you get both of us off, it won’t be such a problem.”

“ _You_ started this, so that’s bullshit.”

Stupid of him to wage a war of words with a master of them. His own talents rested in physical acts, and although he usually inflicted pain he could also inflict pleasure. He needed to stop Schuldig from thinking and talking and knew a way to do it. 

Before Schuldig could read or notice the intention, Farfarello grabbed him and started to very thoroughly lick his cock, lavishing attention on it, sometimes rubbing his lips against it, and caressed his bollocks. He knew he had it right from the outpouring of reflected pleasure that came to him.

“Holy shit, you actually do listen to me at times,” Schuldig said breathlessly.

“Actually doing it is somewhat different from hearing about it,” Farfarello answered before he deep-throated Schuldig’s cock and started to suck. Having no gag reflex could be handy. Interesting sensation to have his lips stretched, mouth so filled, and breathing somewhat obstructed. He liked the way Schuldig moaned, fucked his mouth, and pulled on his hair too.

The pleasure Schuldig sent to him felt a thousand times more intense, potent, warm, and vivid than what he’d felt when it had been done to him, and it kept rising and rising, getting better and better, heading for a climax. He could drown in it, and wanted to. But he wanted something else even more.

Farfarello took his mouth away and clamped his hand around the base of Schuldig’s cock, saying, “No, not like this. You don’t get to come until I’m inside you.” 

After an initial blast of scarlet furnace-hot rage, Schuldig cut the telepathic feed off entirely, which hit Farfarello like a shock as the lack left his body feeling dead and leaden. Schuldig also used his devilish speed to get himself out of Farfarello’s grip and across the room, next to the door, before Farfarello even had a chance to react. As Schuldig pulled up his underwear and jeans, he said, “You’ll just have to go fuck yourself.” Then he sped out of the room and down the hall. Farfarello _knew_ he should have taken off all of Schuldig’s clothes sooner.

He still hadn’t gotten his first orgasm yet!

As Farfarello swiftly reached the hall himself he could see Schuldig, wearing boots and quickly putting on a coat, stomping out the front door as Crawford came in. Before their leader could ask, Schuldig replied, “I’m going out!” and departed. Nagi’s bedroom door briefly cracked open, probably to see what was going on, then emphatically slammed shut.

Crawford looked at Farfarello and said, “We need to talk, but put some pants on first. If you’re not in my office in five minutes I’m going to have Nagi drag you there. If he has to do it while you’re still naked, he’ll be especially vicious about it.” His utter lack of surprise suggested that he’d foreseen some of this.

So annoying, and Farfarello would prefer to go off in pursuit of his lover instead, but he realized that he’d pushed Schuldig too hard in his greed and Schuldig might calm down if given some alone time. Thus, he put his jeans back on and went to Crawford’s “office,” which was a corner of his bedroom. If Crawford had wanted more clothing, he should have specified. 

Sitting behind his desk, Crawford acted as if he didn’t care about that and instead asked, “What are you _doing_? What are your intentions toward Schuldig?”

“My intentions? It’s not like I can get him pregnant,” Farfarello answered. 

Oh, but if he could! He imagined Schuldig with a swollen belly filled with his bastard child, a perversion against nature, an abomination. The Vatican refused to acknowledge a marriage between two people of the same gender and abhorred extramarital sex but treasured the unborn, so what a conundrum could that be for the Church? What a tangled mass of glorious sin!

He couldn’t help wondering which of the two of them their precious abomination would take after most in looks. 

“I’m sure I don’t want to know what you’re grinning about,” Crawford said. “When I left, Schuldig was working. I came back to him storming out in a rage and me having to see your erection. It’s unacceptable.”

“Schuldig started it. He’s a slut.” It sounded believable, and Schuldig certainly tempted him.

“Like hell he did. I’m a seer, remember? I just didn’t get to see anything in time to stop you from sexually harassing my telepath.” Crawford had probably figured he’d never have to say that last phrase. 

“He was fine with most of it.”

“It isn’t happening again.”

“That should be up to us, not you. He isn’t your possession. You mostly order him around or ignore him, and you’ve rejected every overture he’s made to you, though sometimes you flatter him or give him a pat on the head so he won’t lose all hope. Once he fully realizes that you’ll never give him what he needs because you can’t stop seeing him as your underling, things will change between the two of you.”

“Sure, I’ll treasure your wisdom on Schuldig, given that he just went stomping out of here in a rage from what you, in your _wisdom_ , did to him.” Crawford’s voice became even more sarcastic and sneering as he asked, “His ‘needs’? For what, romance?” 

“His need for someone who genuinely appreciates him and his abilities and lets him _know_ about all that appreciation. His need for touch. They’re not so much to ask.”

Perhaps Crawford didn’t have an answer for that, because he just said, “I don’t have to be fucking Schuldig myself to tell you to back off of him. You’ll ruin the team dynamic.”

Understanding now, Farfarello replied, “This is why you ordered him to babysit me the way you did, knowing that it would make him resent it. You don’t want the two of us to become friendly and come together because it would threaten your sense of power and idea of how ‘your’ team should work.”

“There’s a big difference between ‘friendly’ and you manipulating him into having sex with you.” Crawford kept casting events in the worst possible light. Ironic that he had no vision. 

“I wouldn’t call it ‘manipulating.’”

“I sure as hell would.”

“Your unwillingness to really deal with either of us made this happen.”

 _That_ stripped away some of Crawford’s smugness, but not for long. He smirked and asked, “So I have to stake my claim on Schuldig to make sure you back off?”

That Crawford could even _say_ it that way.... “That wouldn’t work if you didn’t truly mean it, and Schuldig would be able to see through it anyway. You may be harder for him to mindread than non-precogs, but you’d give yourself away when you touched him skin to skin. Foresee _that_.”

“...you really think you feel something for him and that you just have to force him into feeling the same way. You think you’re saving him from me. You’re so fucking delusional.” Crawford looked thoughtful but not in a way Farfarello liked. While Farfarello had meant to give him food for thought, he hoped he hadn’t fed the wrong mental processes. “Don’t force yourself on him again, and don’t try to manipulate his telepathy to make him consent.”

“You’re the one who complains about him going out to get laid.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to agree to you raping him to keep him at home.” As usual, Crawford didn’t understand. 

“It’s not really--”

“It _is_. You know how telepathy can impair his ability to truly consent, and you _used_ that against him. You _don’t_ turn on your teammates, Farfarello. I don’t care how romantic you think this is inside your twisted brain. Don’t force me to keep you bound and locked up in your room when I’m not here. I will if you make it necessary.”

Farfarello already spent too damned much time restrained. “It won’t be necessary.”

“I foresee Schuldig returning in about an hour for dinner with us. After dinner, the team will have a mandatory meeting, you included. Stay out of trouble on your own, or I’ll lock you up. Dismissed.”

Although Farfarello didn’t appreciate the way Crawford had commanded him out, if he stayed near him he might do something everyone would regret so he left without a word and didn’t lash out. At first he wondered what he could do with himself while waiting for dinner that wouldn’t get too bloody or end with Nagi hanging him upside-down in a straitjacket in his room but soon realized that pondering his problems and considering solutions could take up that time. Schuldig neither forgave nor forgot things, so Farfarello would have to figure out what to say and how to handle him so they could continue to work together and Farfarello could eventually get another chance at him in the future. 

Another miscalculation could not just sink him but make life within Schwarz intolerable. Schuldig had been the closest thing he had to a supporter in the team: unbinding and letting him out of his room/cell, advocating for and supporting him during pressure-releasing murder sprees, and talking to him as if he were a human being. The others only saw him as an unpredictable and deadly tool.

No longer in the heat of the moment, he could see that he’d unintentionally wronged Schuldig. Drunk on sensations and possibilities, he’d pushed too hard and forgotten that his partner had his own wants, need, and pride. Knowing that Farfarello cared about him wouldn’t make up for it.

He had to make things right with Schuldig.

When Schuldig returned, Farfarello felt relieved that he didn’t have to think on his mistakes anymore but also hadn’t come up with satisfying tactics or a solution. Tonight would be uncomfortable, especially if Crawford devoted parts of the team meeting to what Farfarello had done today as he expected. 

Their takeout food arrived at the door soon after him, making Schuldig raise an amused but not entirely surprised eyebrow at Crawford. 

The team sat down to a dinner of local food, something Crawford wanted Schuldig and Farfarello to get accustomed to. Fortunately, it didn’t involve raw seafood. While Farfarello _could_ eat anything, he had preferences when he had a choice. Tonight’s meal of grilled meat on skewers and noodle soup containing vegetables and meat didn’t challenge him, though he used only a spoon on the soup. He didn’t always handle chopsticks well. 

Schuldig didn’t ostentatiously ignore or make sure to always look away from him at the table but didn’t really acknowledge him either. It didn’t bode well.

After they finished eating and cleaning up, Crawford said, “Schuldig, bring us to the Star Chamber. We’re having a team meeting.” 

Once they’d left their bodies and all stood in the telepathic space, Crawford said, “We’ll be working as bodyguards for a greedy, egotistical, ambitious, abusive twit named Takatori Reiji. His family position and wealth have let him get away with so much that his ambitions are outpacing his ability. His sons are similar. We can’t treat any of them the way they deserve to be treated and we’ll have to put up with the way Takatori treats us until Eszett is done with him. As usual.

“But it’s not all bad news. Our end game is approaching. Although it’s far enough ahead that I can’t foresee it in any detail, our opportunity to gain our freedom from Eszett will happen in Japan. I think the Elders will come here to do the ritual, which is where we’ll grab our chance. We’ll have to be more careful in our behavior and shielding as that time comes closer since they’ll put us under greater scrutiny. Schuldig, you’ll be essential to us, especially since you’ll also have to be monitoring the area to make sure we know when and where they’ve truly arrived and what they’re doing since they can’t be trusted to be honest about anything. You’ll have to be at your best. I believe you can handle it.”

“I can handle it,” Schuldig replied. 

“It’ll be more important than ever for us to be a cohesive team and watch each other’s backs, to not let them divide and conquer us, even as we’ll have to pretend to them that we’re not to allay their suspicions. I may have to do or say things to show that I’m a team leader who puts them first and my team a distant second. Expect it, but know what’s really behind it. Schuldig, do you keep coming on to me because you’re actually interested or because I’m your team leader? I won’t punish honesty.” 

Wait, what?

Schuldig shrugged. “It’s not just that you’re my team leader and might be able to do things for me. I honestly think you’re hot, though you’ve been so careful to fly under the Elders’ radar that I’m not completely sure what your actual personality is like. What I have seen and mindread conflicts with mine somewhat but who knows. Conflict can be interesting. Besides, you’re a dream compared to some of the team leaders I’ve had to work with. Now give me some honesty back.”

“I’m tempted by you, and I value you, but the plan is too important,” Crawford answered. “If we became involved, you have to know that I won’t have a lot of time for you, can’t show any tenderness in public or sometimes even in private, and won’t give you any favoritism in team matters. I would completely understand if that renders you uninterested or if you’d prefer to wait until after we get our freedom.”

“Thanks. I’d need to think about it.”

Farfarello had completely missed some undercurrents and misread other things, leaving him embarrassed. Crawford had also righted almost all the accusations Farfarello had thrown in his face. If Farfarello merely wanted to save Schuldig for Schuldig’s sake that should make him happy, even if he came out of it looking a bit like a villain. 

It didn’t make him happy at all, even though it looked like Crawford might not get Schuldig either.

“Schuldig, I told Farfarello that I won’t tolerate him harassing or manipulating you,” Crawford said. “If he tries that kind of shit again, you’re allowed to take him down... short of seriously damaging him... and hanging him from the ceiling of his room in a time out. Nagi will help if he’s around.”

“Oh, will I?” Nagi asked.

“Do you want to be nearby while Farfarello’s succeeding? You didn’t like it much earlier.”

Nagi sighed. “True.”

“Farfarello, in hurting Schuldig you’re not just hurting him but the entire team _and_ our chance at freedom,” Crawford said. “None of us will tolerate that. Don’t tell me it isn’t like that, because that won’t change how the rest of us see it. Make up with Schuldig and move on. Schuldig, you can still work with him, can’t you?”

“Ja,” Schuldig answered, looking hard and focused. “I’ll be on guard from now on.”

Before, Schuldig would have been more forgiving and taken into account that Farfarello actually did care for him, but Crawford had successfully put a darker spin on it, changing it from a small personal misstep just between the two of them to a strike against the entire team and their plans, and made Farfarello out to be a traitorous predator. All of that well and truly fucked Farfarello over, and what he’d done didn’t deserve it or this public shaming! 

But he had to keep his anger tamped down and strive for calm, even though his blood boiled and he saw red. Acting now would give them another reason to lock him away, at a time when the thought already tempted them, and Schuldig another reason not to listen to him. He had so little in his life and could lose even _that_. 

No one else could give him what Schuldig could.

“You won’t argue this time, Farfarello?” Crawford asked, smirking a little.

Farfarello refused to take the bait and sounded fucking _calm_ as he replied, “You have made up your mind about me already and won’t be dissuaded, while Nagi doesn’t care. The most important person I have to talk to about this is Schuldig, and I’d prefer to do it without your verbal contributions.” 

“I’m fine with talking to him alone,” Schuldig said. 

Crawford and Nagi dropped out of their telepathic space room... and suddenly so did the floor and furniture, leaving Farfarello floating precariously through a starry night sky, unable to control his movement, his sense of balance and motion disturbed every time he tried to right himself. He hadn’t even realized he’d been “standing” on anything until Schuldig took it away. By contrast, Schuldig floated calmly and confidently, as if Farfarello needed a reminder that the telepath had the upper hand over him on the psychic plane. 

“You could have proven me wrong instead of fulfilling all my worst expectations,” Schuldig said. “If you hadn’t been a greedy, selfish, controlling _asshole_ we could have had fun and orgasms today and at other times in the future. Instead, I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”

Much worse than he’d expected. He had to talk Schuldig down. “I made some _mistakes_ in my excitement and amazement at the sensations you were giving me and letting me feel for the first time. I didn’t have some evil master plan. I care for you, and I value our partnership.”

“All of that ‘care’ isn’t worth shit if you don’t _respect_ me.”

“Crawford only made those announcements because I told him he wasn’t acknowledging or treating you properly. I’m the one who watches and truly listens to you.”

“And since you’re such a nice guy I should let you fuck me? It doesn’t work like that. If your talk with Crawford led to him clarifying why he behaves the way he does and saying that he has faith in my power and skills, thanks, but my thanks is all you’re getting. If you’re implying that no one in the team actually respects me, eat shit and die.”

“I’m implying nothing of the sort! I didn’t mean any harm, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“You never truly _had_ me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Schuldig relented a little. “I know what you mean. You’ll have to work to regain my trust.”

Patience might not be his strong suit, but Farfarello knew he had to try. Still... “You know that I’m not always stable.”

“No shit, but _try_. I’ll notice the effort.”

“I will.” He could play a long game when the prize was worth it. Next time he’d show better judgment.

Hopefully.

 

### End


End file.
